


Defending Homes and Hearts

by Lt_Cmdr_Scribbler



Series: Inconveniently Emotional Insomniacs [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Fluff, He loves Rona to bits, Voss - Freeform, Vulcan Kisses, Writing Fideltin's inner thoughts gives me life, You can pry this romance out of my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lt_Cmdr_Scribbler/pseuds/Lt_Cmdr_Scribbler
Summary: Rona loves Voss, and Fideltin gets a little more reminiscent and poetic than usual.





	

Rona loved Voss; that much was clear from the genuinely happy expression on her face as they walked through the market and embassy district in Voss-Ka.

Fideltin could see the appeal. The bright foliage reminded him of autumn on Balmorra, one of his better postings, and despite the tension that ran between the border of the Imperial embassies and the Republic ones, the market was neutral ground, with people only interested in selling their wares. It was more peaceful than anywhere they had been in a long time. In a surprising way, it reminded Fideltin of home.

He watched Rona haggle with a Mid-Rim tailor, her forehead flat and serious but her lips turning up at the edges. He remembered the way she had spoken about Tython, her grandmother’s quarters in the Temple where she had spent many nights as a child, and Fideltin remembered the pictures that Rona had shown him. The scenery and atmosphere was so similar to that of Voss, and Fideltin recognised that Rona was probably having similar thoughts about her own home.

As they idly walked across one of the great stone bridges toward the Republic embassy, their arms laden with various materials and gadgets from the market, Fideltin cleared his throat. “Permission to speak freely, Ronadia?”

Rona regarded him with a raised eyebrow in an expression that he knew meant _Don’t play dumb with me_. “You’ve never needed permission to speak your mind with me, Fideltin.”

Fideltin smirked with no insignificant amount of self-depreciation. “What I’m about to say, you might construe as critical. I had some concerns when I was first assigned to your team. The Jedi are usually known for their discipline and selflessness… and for their pacifist philosophies. I’m pleased to say my concerns were unfounded.”

“After Hoth, I’m not entirely sure why you would have thought I was a pacifist,” quipped Rona, laughter lurking in her brown eyes.

To his own surprise, Fideltin _laughed_. A warm, low sound from deep in his chest. It was… different. _Good_ different. “As I said, unfounded concerns. I came from a pacifist colony, Rona. We were bullied remorselessly: by pirates, corporations, Hutts, and even other governments. I joined the military as soon as I could. Peace only comes to those willing to fight for it.”

Rona nodded, the sentiment being one that she knew all too well. “I’m sure your family is glad you’re defending them, even if you disagree with their ideals.”

His reply was stiff and cold, the way it was only when he was angry. “Ten years ago, the colony was attacked by the Sith. My family was killed. They never fought back. The Sith crushed them, the way someone might step on a bug.”

Rona stopped walking, and shouldered her armful of fabric to lay a hand on his face, fingertips tracing the line of his cheekbone. “We will hold the Emperor accountable for this,” she promised, fire in her brown eyes than seemed unquenchable, unstoppable, fierce beyond imagining. Her anger was a wildfire, where Fideltin’s was an ice storm. It struck Fideltin like a gunshot, that her desire for justice was all-consuming, and he knew that one of his assumptions about Jedi were true: the complete selflessness that they had bordered on a lack of self-preservation, and he promised himself that he would make sure that Rona never burned herself out, not when he could prevent it.

Fideltin turned his head to the side a little, so that he leaned into the warmth of her hand. He couldn't stop the soft, tiny smile as he murmured, “Thank you, Rona, for hearing me out.”

 She tapped her index and middle fingers against his cheek gently, she way she meant as a kiss when he was out of her reach, and grinned. “What are partners for, Fid?”

He frowned, but the seriousness of it was contradicted by the faint amusement in his eyes and the warm glow in his chest. “Don’t call me that. Please.”

Rona grinned at her Sergeant, her beau, completely unapologetic. “Oh, alright. As you wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gran-Gran Za'leila was a complete nerd for the old intergalactic drama 'Star Trek,' so of course she taught her brood of children and grandchildren how to kiss like Vulcans. As a Jedi, she found it logical and ridiculously endearing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this fluff. It's intended to be a buffer for the angst to come. Because Angst is coming, my friends. KOTFE-flavoured angst.


End file.
